Miranda stood outside the commander's door for an embarrassingly long time before she finally worked up the nerve to request entry.

She didn't know what her problem was. She talked to Shepard all the time; the two went on nearly every field mission together, and never before had Miranda felt this nervous just to have a conversation with her.

She supposed it probably had to do with the context. Shepard had spoken to no one after her return from Alchera, opting instead to sequester herself in her cabin and stew. As her XO, Miranda felt the need to be the one to check on her (that was the only reason. The only one at all). Kelly might have been more qualified, but Miranda trusted no one but herself with Shepard's wellbeing. She'd built her from the ground up, after all.

She stood there waiting for a response long enough that she began to doubt she'd get one at all. Was Shepard asleep? Indisposed? Or was she just expecting Miranda to give up and leave? That thought irritated her. She crossed her arms and planted herself firmly, unwilling to be turned away so easily.

After a few more moments of no response, Miranda reached out and pressed the button by the door again.

This time, it slid open almost immediately.

Shepard stood just within, and her appearance was a shock.

The commander, usually so stoic and straitlaced, was a mess. Her short red hair hung limp over her brow, ungelled, and her face was bare and pale. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She didn't look at Miranda as she said roughly, "Did you need something?"

"I—" Miranda felt torn between the urge to run from the room and the urge to pull Shepard into her arms and hold her forever. But neither of those would do, so the officer just clasped her hands behind her back and said levelly, "I wanted to check on you. Going back to the Normandy's crash site couldn't have been easy."

Shepard sighed and turned away, but didn't dismiss her. Was her sigh disappointed? Relieved? Miranda didn't know her well enough to tell. "Don't worry," she said, voice hollow. "This won't affect the mission."

Miranda's heart jerked painfully, but she didn't blame Shepard for thinking that's all she cared about. She had made it a point to remain…distant. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, attempting to sound gentle and sincere. She was sincere, but she was out of practice. "I was actually asking about you, though."

Shepard stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, something like surprise in her expression. Miranda stayed still and silent, not sure what to do with herself under the commander's thoughtful scrutiny. After a pause, Shepard managed a smile. It almost reached her eyes. "I'll be fine," she said softly, and something about that tone of voice made Miranda swallow dry. "Thanks for asking."